


Flight

by Twyd



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, M/M, Slash, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 04:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6785455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Light had confessed instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flight

Even with the circles now adorning his eyes, Light Yagami is so beautiful L has to look away.

He is in a coffee shop the morning of his flight, only his flight has been cancelled. All the others are apparently booked for that evening. L has never been good at these hiccups. Years on his own, and he still needs Watari to do everything for him. He sighs. He will call the company later.

His laptop died half an hour ago. He is always forgetful about chargers. Watari was always better at that sort of thing, too. He is writing in a notepad instead.

That is when a familiar voice calls, “Ryuzaki?”

He lifts his head in time to get a faceful of long, blonde hair. Misa Amane hugs him hard and rather awkwardly, as he is still in his crouch. He waits for her to pull back to slide his eyes behind her, and of course Light is standing right there, staring at him.

“You look – well,” Misa offers. He doesn’t say anything. He knows how he looks.

Misa seems to remember Light then and pulls him forward, laughing. “Isn’t this funny? Light saw you from all the way over there. How are you? Do you know, I can’t even remember how we met. Can you, Light? Must have been through school, or something. Anyway, you’ve got to come to our wedding!”

L breathes in like he’s been struck, and Light has to turn away. L tunes her out, following her hand down to the unmistakable shine of an engagement ring. She sees him looking and holds out her hand, proudly. Her smile is friendly but faint, puzzled. She is obviously trying to place him amongst Light’s classmates, his tennis opponents, his long lost cousins, and doesn’t remember a thing.

“Do you keep a diary?” Misa asks, when he has the foresight to finally close his notebook. “You’re just like Light. Always scribbling away.”

L raises his gaze to Light, looking at him properly for the first time, and Light doesn’t quite meet his eyes. So that’s how he still remembers.

“So you’ll come, right?” Misa prompts. “Just give me your address and we’ll shoot you an invitation.”

She waits. L looks into her bright, expectant eyes. Light’s are still on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Misa,” he hears himself saying. “But I’m leaving the country soon.”

Her face falls. “Oh, really? That’s such a shame. Can’t you come back? It’s not for months yet, because Light has his exams.” She squeezes his arm. “Have you already booked your flight?”

“Yes.”

And he would, just as soon as they left.

“It’s such a shame,” she repeats. “I remember you and Light used to be so close.”

Now it is L who has to look away. His insides are burning.

Misa laughs at their apparent shyness. “You boys.” She whips out a pink notepad from her purse and scribbles in it, tearing off the page with relish. “Well, here’s our address and home number. Stop by before you go, if you can. It’d be great to catch up. You’re welcome any time.”

He pinches it between a numb finger and thumb. “Thank you.”

Misa offers him one last smile, links Light’s arm and pulls him away. L can hear, or imagine he hears, her murmuring. “How do you know him, honey? I really can’t remember. He’s a little strange, isn’t he?”

L stares at the little piece of paper, and places it carefully into his pocket. He will have to send them flowers.

Then he takes out his phone and books his flight.

* * *

 

It is an odd coincidence, L thinks, that Chief Soichiro Yagami calls him later that day.

L has spoken with Soichiro from time to time since they burnt the death notes, for different cases, but it has been a while, and L can think of nothing to connect them now, save for his encounter with Light earlier.

He never believes in coincidences. He picks up the phone.

“L?”

L’s gut squeezes with recognition at that tone, the one men have when they tell him they didn’t make it in time, that something has gone horribly wrong.“What is it?”

“Do you know where Light is?”

“Light?” he echoes, rather stupidly, as he’d known it was coming.

“He broke off his engagement to Misa last night. He missed an exam this morning. He’s not answering his phone.”

The squeezing in his gut gets worse. “I saw him yesterday,” he hears himself saying.

“Yes, Misa said.” Soichiro breathes like he is pacing. L pictures him with his sleeves up, his hair even greyer, itching for a cigarette if he’s not outside.

“Perhaps it’s just – nerves? For the wedding?”

“Perhaps. But Light doesn’t seem to get nervous. Even with his exams, he’s always thrived under pressure.”

Under other circumstances, L would have laughed. Saying Light thrived under pressure was like pointing out sharks liked blood.

“How did he seem to you when you saw him?” Soichiro asks.

“Well…it was awkward, naturally. I didn’t really get to speak to him. Misa did most of the talking.”

Soichiro sighs. He sounds like an old, old man. “Between you and me, Light has never been the same since the case.” He always called it the case. “He and I have drifted. I’ve tried to move on, but it’s hard to forgive someone of such a thing, even if it is your own son.”

L makes a vague noise of sympathy.

“But perhaps I’ve been too hard on him. He hasn’t been himself for a long time. My wife has also been concerned. He didn’t stay with any of his friends last night. I called all the hospitals...”

“We’ll find him,” L interrupts. “I know people. I’ll be able to find him.”

“Thank you.” Soichiro pauses. “I hope I am worrying over nothing.”

“I’m sure you are.”

L hangs up and immediately begins to dial. He’s been through hundreds of phones, hundreds of contact lists since the Kira case, but he never forgets a phone number.

Neither, apparently, does Light. He picks up on the first ring.

“L?”

The grip on his insides loosens just a little. “Light. Are you all right?”

“I…I’m fine. What’s wrong? Are _you_ all right?”

“Your Father called.”

“Oh.” L hears him suck in. “ _Oh_. He thought- oh, God. I didn’t even think. I just needed some time alone.”

L is breathing more easily the more he hears Light’s voice. There is nothing like a false alarm. He had allowed Soichiro to scare him.

“I’ll call him," Light tells him.

“Do that.”

L doesn’t speak again, and neither does Light. L’s not sure why neither of them are hanging up.

“L?” Light’s voice weakens just a fraction, and L grips the phone even tighter. “Can I see you?”

“All right,” he says, after a not quite long enough pause. “Want to get some cake?”

Light laughs, his real laugh, although it is a little choked. It makes L smile. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the HQ. You know, the hotel. It’s weird seeing so many people here.”

L knows. “Call your Father. I’ll be there soon.”

“OK.”

* * *

 

It feels like he is seeing Light for the first time all over again. The restaurant is quiet, although Light had said there were a lot of people, and L spots him easily amongst the older ladies, and a mother and daughter having afternoon tea. It is warm weekday afternoon, and most of the customers are sitting outside.

Light stares at L, unsmiling, as he sits opposite him. Even when he hasn’t slept, he is still the kind of man that waitresses stare at.

“Thanks for coming.” Light's throat is a little dry. He takes a sip of water and pours some for L.

“That’s all right.”

The waitress comes to take their order, and they both have coffee. Light asks for decaf. He looks like he has been living on caffeine for a while.

“I called my Dad,” he says, when they’re alone again. “I think he’s all right.”

“That’s good.” He helps himself to a sugar cube from the little porcelain bowl.

“I’m sorry for this. I didn’t think about my Dad calling you.”

“I don’t want to alarm you,” L says, stirring half the bowl’s sugar cubes into his coffee. “But you missed an exam this morning.”

“I know.” Light sips his own. “I’m missing another one right now.”

L’s cake arrives. Coconut and cream. He hasn’t had coconut in years. “Is it rude to eat cake while you have a crisis?”

“It never stopped you before.”

Light watches L eat with his old smile. He has nothing for himself, and declines a bite of L’s.

“I haven’t changed, Ryuzaki,” he says, after a bit, and the old alias both warms and wearies him. “I’m lying all the time. I don’t love Misa. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with my life. I know it’s only you and my Father who know the truth, but I think the rest of the team saw it on his face. I feel like a hypocrite.”

“It’s not the end of the world,” L says, when Light looks so small he feels he must say something. “It’s better to realise these things now rather than later.”

“Mm.” Light is biting his lip. “I’ve just been realising that I don’t have any real friends, and even my family don’t really know me.”

L nods sympathetically. It seems safer to nod than to talk. He has no friends or family.

“When do you leave Japan?”

“Tomorrow,” he lies. His flight is in a few hours. He is still partly kidding himself that he can make it.

“Going far?”

“England.”

Light doesn’t react.

“How’s Watari?”

“He passed away three years ago.”

Light stares at him, stricken. It was shocking. Watari had been in excellent health. “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs eventually.

L doesn’t tell him it was a heart attack. Watari would have appreciated the irony. Light wouldn’t.

“It’s good to see you again.”

L reaches for another sugar cube, finds he has finished them. He looks outside instead.

“I’ve missed you a lot.”

He watches the hotel guests sunning themselves. “We should have really gone for ice-cream.”

“Ryuzaki.”

L looks at him.

“I  - everything just happened so suddenly. As soon as we burned the books, everyone just packed up and left. I knew you would block my number, or change yours, or whatever you did, but it still hurt. Things were so strained between me and my Dad. That was how I ended up moving in with Misa so quickly. I thought if I could be the perfect son, the perfect cop, I could make up for what I’ve done. But I’ve been unhappy for a while. I’m failing my degree. The work hasn’t been hard, but I don’t want to do it.”

L is staring at him. This is the most honest he has ever seen Light. Even when he confessed, he hadn’t been like this. He’d had his arms round Misa the entire time. He is stirring his untouched coffee now like they are having a normal conversation.

“Did you know you talk in your sleep?”

L looks at him sharply.  

He goes on stirring, unperturbed.

“When you do sleep, that is. When we were chained. You were always mumbling in some other language, and you’d go on and on. Some nights it was funny, but some nights I’d want to kill you with my bare hands, never mind the death note.” He smiles, like their being chained together was a fond memory, like they hadn’t loathed every minute of it. L doesn’t smile with him. His heart has begun to beat uncomfortably hard. “You had nightmares sometimes, too. I would usually just sort of pat you and you would shut up, but you had this really bad one once, and you woke up. Do you remember? You apologised and went back to sleep.”

L doesn’t remember.

“You started speaking English when you went back to sleep. You said, ‘My name’s not L. Lawliet. That’s not my name.’ And the way you said it, the way you were panicking, it was pretty obvious it that was your name.” He looks at L now. “It is, isn’t it?”

L doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to.

“It’s OK,” Light says, distantly. “This happened the second week we were chained. I haven’t told anyone and I won’t now.”

It takes him a moment to process this. Light had known his name all along. He had known even before he confessed.

“Why?”

Light just looks at him.

“I don’t think I’ll chain myself to suspects any more.”

He laughs. “You mean I wasn’t the only one? I thought I was special.”

He sighs. He is inexplicably sadder than ever. “Oh, Light-kun is very special.”

Another silence uncomfortably descends. Is this how it would be, small talks and silences, until they make their excuses and leave?

“I wonder how much a room is here,” Light muses. “Can you remember? Misa doesn’t want me to pick up my things until the weekend.”

“Go to your parents.”

“No. no, I couldn’t do that.” He starts stirring his coffee again. “I wish you weren’t leaving.”

* * *

 

L gets him a room, despite Light’s protests that he doesn’t need to, he can go somewhere else.

“You can pay me back.”

Money is nothing to him, has been ever since he and Watari made it big in England.

Light is lying back on the double bed now, his hands behind his head. The room was smaller than the suites they’d taken for the Kira case, and L, chairless, has to perch awkwardly on the edge of the bed.

“I guess I owe you a massage.”

“That’s OK,” L says quickly. That is going down a route he doesn’t want to think about, not yet. “Have you thought about what you’re going to do?” He winces inside as he says it. It is a terrible thing to ask, in any context. People are always thinking about what they are going to do.

“I’ll phone the university and see how much of my degree is salvageable, I guess.”

Light’s eyes slide over to him, and L has to look away.

He sits up, levelling with L, and L tries to make his eyes as hard and as distant as possible. Light doesn’t seem to notice. He leans in, brushing L’s lips so softly that he barely feels it, then rests their foreheads together. L reminds himself to breathe. He hasn’t been this close to Light since they were chained.

“Do you really have to leave Japan?”

Light’s eyes are closed. L closes his own. The answer is on his lips, _yes_ , but he can’t make it come out.

He tries to remember the time, how quickly a cab can make it to the airport at rush hour, if there are any other flights left.

“L,” Light says, very quietly. “I think I love you. I don’t want you to go.”

L doesn’t move. This is the moment he hasn’t let himself imagine for years, and he can’t speak. He can’t even think.

Somewhere above them, his plane takes off into the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave feedback if you can :)


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